


I Am no Man (and Neither Am I!)

by Fic_Request_Blog



Series: LotR Drabbles [13]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Gen, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fic_Request_Blog/pseuds/Fic_Request_Blog
Summary: This was an ask on Tumblr.Glorfindel goes with Elrond's procession of elves to see the coronation of the new king of Gondor, but he also goes to meet a certain person(s?) that fulfilled a prophecy he had made long, long ago.





	I Am no Man (and Neither Am I!)

Glorfindel looked up (and up and up and up) at the white spires jutting from the mountain. They gleamed in the sun, proud and strong, like the people of Gondor themselves. He had only been before the gates of the White City once before, but that was for no such joyous occasion as this. He had not been afforded the opportunity to marvel at its beauty.

Trumpets sounded before the procession of elves, heralding their approach.

Smile breaking across his face, Glorfindel watched the greeting party ride through the open gates, spotting the soon-to-be king at the forefront, a smile matching his own sitting upon Aragorn’s lips.

This would truly be a time to remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A fortnight sat between them and the coronation. (Elrond arrived early, unlike wizards.)

It was good for their early arrival as well, for Gondor was still repairing, healing both its people and its stones. Aragorn and Elrond with many elven healers rested little (and Glorfindel would always marvel at the foresight of the Peredhil).

Glorfindel helped where he was able, but could not hold his impatience. He wished to see the Witch Slayer. He’d heard of her, grasped every story of her, picked up every tale he could find.

Eowyn, a shield-maiden of Rohan and sister to their new king had slain the Witch King of Angmar. He heard that she had ridden into battle with her kin, that she had golden hair spun of the sun, that she had fire in her eyes and defiance in her breath.

He could not wait to meet her.

The first moment he could, Glorfindel pulled Aragorn aside, asking where he could find the Witch Slayer. Aragorn had laughed, ducking around the adamant elf to lead him down the white halls of the healing houses.

“Of course, I’ll introduce you to them, Glorfindel. I’m sure they would both like to meet you.”

“Both”, he had echoed, the question obvious in his voice.

Aragorn had simply smiled, mischief dancing in his eyes, “You shall see soon enough.”

Glorfindel had shaken his head in annoyance. This dunedain spent too much time in the company of Mithrandir. Mysteries and riddles were not favorites of Glorfindel.

~~~~~~~~~~~

She sat beside a man of Gondor upon a bench in the courtyard of the Healing Houses. Two children sat on the ground in front of them, talking animatedly as they all laughed.

It was obviously her. Even stricken by the magic of Angmar, she sat with an air of pride and lordship about her. Her golden hair spilled freely across her shoulder, smile wide as she leaned into the man beside her. Blue eyes, warm and intelligent, glanced up at their approach, widening at Aragorn and the elf accompanying him.

The man beside her began to stand upon seeing the king-to-be, but Aragorn quickly waived him back into his seat.

“Faramir, please, at least not while you’re still injured.”

The children turned to see them, leaping to their feet with shouts glee, “Aragorn!”

As they ran to give Glorfindel’s companion a hug, the elf realized with a start that these were no children, but two of the little folk like Bilbo of the Shire, hobbits. They seemed to be showing up all over the place this age.

“Hello, Merry, Pippin, how are you? Keeping our two invalids entertained?”

Before the hobbits could reply, Eowyn cut in, “They certainly are, my lord. We had no idea the hobbits had such wild adventures in their homeland.”

Aragorn snorted, hands steady on one of each of the hobbits’ shoulders, “I assure you anything they’ve told you is both true and a grievous exaggeration.”

The shouts of protest from the hobbits were mellowed by the laughter from their friends, for it was obvious to Glorfindel that all five of these people were of close company.

“Anyhow”, Aragorn cleared his throat, “I would like to introduce you to Glorfindel, lord of the house of the Golden Flower and perhaps the greatest warrior in Lord Elrond’s land.”

Glorfindel raised a brow at that, but let the perhaps slide in favor of finally being introduced to the woman before him. He could give Aragorn his full retort at a later time.

“These troublemakers are Meriadoc Brandybuck, Squire of Rohan and Peregrin Took, Guard of the Citadel of Gondor, two of the finest among their kin, and close friends of mine.”

The hobbits beamed, bowing before the elf happily, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord! Though no one calls me Mariadoc. Just Merry.”

“And I’m Pippin! Or just Pip, but really only Merry calls me that.”

Glorfindel smiled, bowing in turn, “I assure you, the pleasure is mine. I’m afraid most people do actually call me by my given name, though I am not opposed to nicknames.”

Aragorn shook his head hastily, “I assure you, you do not want to give them that option”, laughing lightly, “And this is Faramir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor.”

Glorfindel finally cast his eyes upon the man in full, taking in the tired, yet strong demeanor. He had wisdom in his eyes far greater than most men the elf had met, and a spark of interest that spoke of quick wit and steadfast belief. Faramir’s humble posture could not hide this and Glorfindel nodded his respect. This would be a worthy man to serve at the side of the king of men.

“And this”, Aragorn said with a flourish, “is likely the person you wished to meet. This is Eowyn of the House of Eorl and Shieldmaiden of Rohan and, as you so said, Witch Slayer. Though, I must say, she was not the only one to earn that title.”

Aragorn ruffled the hair of Merry as he finished introducing Eowyn, a fond look in his eye as the hobbit hurried to wave off the praise.

“Oh no, not really. All I did was give that nasty thing a poke in the leg. It was really my lady here that did all of the slaying.”

The smile had dropped from Eowyn’s face at the mention of the Witch King, but at the quick retort of the hobbit, it came back fully, “I assure you Merry, you were essential.”

Merry ducked his head, a flush spreading all the way up to his ears at her words.

Eowyn turned to regard Glorfindel, steel flashing in her eyes even as she kept her smile, “Though I must ask, what reason do you have for wishing to meet me, even if I did kill him? Surely there are many that have slain great foes in this city.”

Nodding, Glorfindel swept his robes to the side so he could sit before her, eyes crinkling at the edges from her surprise, “Yes, I am sure there are, and I would give them all my highest respect if I could, but I had to meet you, you and Merry, the Witch Slayers, for it was I that prophesied the Witch’s fall would not be by the hand of man. I truly wished to see who had fulfilled it. I wouldn’t have guessed a Shieldmaiden and Squire of Rohan, certainly not a hobbit at that. But, I must say, I am not disappointed.”

He paused, thinking of the rest of what he wished to say (he had had centuries to consider), but simply summed his thoughts with a bow, “And I wished to thank you as well. The Witch King felled many good elves and men. Many friends of mine. You both have rid this world of a great evil, and for that, I thank you.”

Sobered by his words, Eowyn nodded, “It was simply duty to my king.”

And there, sitting at her feet, Glorfindel marveled, for the loyalty and devotion of the humans continued to amaze him still.

“Yeah”, Merry piped up, “and it was exciting, past, you know, the dark magic and the almost-dying, of course.”

Glorfindel tipped his head back and laughed, laughed with this surprising group of the peoples of Middle Earth. He beckoned the hobbits to sit with him as this would be a tale he had to hear and would long cherish in these coming days of peace.


End file.
